


The Other Kind

by December21st



Category: Castle
Genre: Castleland, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-24
Updated: 2013-03-24
Packaged: 2017-12-06 09:30:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/734154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/December21st/pseuds/December21st
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are two kinds of folks who sit around thinking about how to kill people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Other Kind

**Author's Note:**

> Response to the 2010 writing challenge at LiveJournal's Castleland "It’ll Last Longer", where we were asked to write a short fic based on one of two screenshots from the episode “Home is Where the Heart Stops”, during the arrival at the charity event.

Tonight I’m finally going to meet my favorite writer, Richard Castle. I’m a writer myself, although I haven’t been published yet. The rejection letters I get say that my work is too dark. I feel that Richard and I have a lot in common. We both write about murder.

I’m at the launch party for his latest book. Normally, I’m not the kind of person that gets invited to launch parties, but yesterday I met a journalist for some local online news site, and he wasn’t going to be using his tickets, so here I am.

He arrives in style, wearing a tux, a beautiful woman on his arm. Richard’s prettier than a writer of murders should be, but not everyone has the strength of character to weather their look the way I have. But still, a couple scars wouldn’t hurt him that much.

The woman must be his girlfriend. She dresses to please his tastes; I can tell. Her necklace looks just like someone drew a knife around her pretty, bare throat, drops of blood glistening on her skin.

Richard talks with the people in the crowd, smiling, laughing, one of them. He’ll have to teach me how he fakes that kind of empathy. It’s something I’ve never quite managed to master. I finally work up the nerve to approach him; he says he’s pleased to meet me. When I tell him that I’m a writer too, he’s encouraging and tells me to keep at my craft. I know that he, too, can sense we’re kindred spirits. He’ll welcome me when I approach him again. His girlfriend is looking at me strangely. I want to tell her how much I like her dress; the color makes it look like she’s soaked in blood, but I chicken out at the last minute.

Later I overhear Richard talking to his girlfriend about her latest case. I realize that she must be the real life cop that inspired Nikki Heat. She mentions the journalist that I got tonight’s tickets from. Now that we’re friends, I’m sure I can tell Richard that he can’t write about the journalist. That’s my murder.


End file.
